The Woman at The End of The World. (Daryl Dixon)

onehundredseven.

Not long after the skin walker departed from Alexandria's gate, Michonne had quickly called for a meeting. While the word spread like wild fire, I ran home to quickly wash the blood and sweat that was caked to my flesh. I swapped my filthy clothes for a pair of blue ripped skinny jeans, Avenged Sevenfold shirt, with a black and white flannel. My wet short hair hangs loosely around my face. I traded my well worn boots for a less tore up pair of onyx tennis shoes. I don't forget to add my swords and throwing knives to finish the look. Correct me if I'm wrong but blades just bring out the bloodlust hidden inside my blue eyes. 

I refuse to go anywhere without my trusty blades. Not after the epiphany I had just days ago - there's a traitor hidden among us. I won't feel safe until I locate who it is, and kill them for thinking they could undermine myself and my family. I still haven't had a moment to share my thoughts with Michonne or Daryl. Soon, I promise myself. 

"All right!" Michonne bellows, quieting the room into a tense silence. Her dark eyes zero in on Lydia. "Is this your mother?"

I'm now standing in the room filled with scared people. Knowing how dangerous being terrified  can do to anyone at any given time, I put my back against the wall with my arms crossed, carefully observing everyone around me. I don't know every single person that surrounds me. That alone sets me on edge; just a little. I  haven't gone out of my way to get to know every single person since my return. They also haven't made a point to cross paths with the woman known as their boogeyman. 

It's no skin off my nose, I muse. 

Even now with the weary glances thrown in my direction, I know without a doubt they've heard what I was capable of. 

Lydia shakes her head, "no. I don't think it is."

"Why's she want to talk with us?" Daryl's gruff voice fills the space next to me.

My husband stands a few feet from me, finding himself perched against a pillar, surveying and asking the very question we've all been wondering ourselves. The small distance still feels like several miles separates us. But right now, we have to deal with Alpha and her cronies before I can try and fix the mess I had created. Again. 

Lydia shrugs, "you crossed into her land. Again. You have to answer for that."

"We don't have to do anything. We could just not go." Aaron speaks from his seat next to Michonne at the long table that sits in the front of the room.

"That's a bad idea." Lydia retorts. 

"We're already under attack!" Dante shouts, nodding while everyone chimes in with sounds of agreement. 

I roll my eyes, but remain silent. Dante is very close to rallying a riot. While, yes, I'm just as angry, but what he's starting is still very stupid and could lead to our death. They have an army of the dead while we have a community of very exhausted, terrified humans. We'd be dead in less than ten minutes, and that's giving us credit in our current state. 

"It isn't her." Lydia reiterates, "if she wanted you dead, she'd send the horde. All of it, not just a few waves at a time." Her brown eyes search the room, peering at each of us. When her gaze lands on me, I nod, offering her someone she trusts on her side. I spot her deposition changing slightly, knowing I'll stand at her side, no matter what. Though, I don't offer any verbal words of encouragement. The Reaper wants nothing to do with the politics of this fight. I refuse to voice my thoughts. That's why I turned down a spot on the council when Michonne had asked me. People here are fired up, ready to light the torches, to hunt down our enemy. 

But I have no problem showing up to meetings so I could be the one to keep the peace. If things get too rowdy, I have rights to shut the shit down as fast as it starts. Michonne had smirked and agreed.